Child of His Heart. Joan Kilby
of fishing line. He tied a complicated knot, snipped off the loose end with a pair of scissors and set the hook aside. “To tell you the truth, I haven’t had a lot of applicants with your qualifications. Can you manage people? It’s important you be able to handle the bank in my…uh, absence.”
“That wouldn’t be a problem, sir. I supervised staff in my previous position.”
He picked up another fishing hook and a new bit of feather. “I can’t give you the kind of salary you were probably getting in Seattle.”
“I understand. What are you offering?” He named a figure not quite as low as she’d expected. “That’ll be fine.”
“Good. When can you start?”
“Tomorrow?”
“Excellent.” He shook her hand across the desk. Then he rose, clapped a fishing hat bristling with flies onto his head, grabbed the rod propped in a corner and walked her to the door. “I don’t want to rush you but I’ve an important meeting with the mayor.”
“Certainly.” Erin managed to keep a straight face. “Thank you very much.”
“Tracy, Bobby,” Mr. Haines said to the tellers. “This is Erin. She’ll be assistant manager, starting tomorrow. You’ll report to her in my absence.”
Tracy’s eyebrows lifted as she gave Erin a thumbs-up. Bobby gazed at her, his mouth parted in awe.
“Oh, Mr. Haines,” Tracy called as he made his way to the exit. “The roof sprang a leak in the back room when we had that big rainfall last week. When I turned on the computer this morning, there was a pffft sound and a puff of black smoke.”
Mr. Haines turned to Erin. “Sounds like the outlet blew. Can you take care of this?”
Her first executive decision, and a no-brainer. “No problem. Bobby, look up roofers in the phone book and make me a list of names and numbers. I know a good electrician in town. I’ll call Mike Gordon and ask him to get over here first thing in the morning.”
“Excellent.” Mr. Haines beamed at her as though she’d just solved the national debt. Then he glanced at his watch and hurried toward the door. “See you all tomorrow. Tracy, I know I can count on you to lock up.”
When he’d left, Tracy turned to Erin. “With the salmon derby coming up in a couple of weeks we hardly see the boss anymore. Thank goodness we’re going to have someone responsible around here.” She glanced at Erin’s shoes again and rubbed her hands together with glee. “Someone with style!”
Erin laughed. Becoming assistant manager of the Hainesville bank might not be one of her more challenging career moves, but she had a feeling she would enjoy working here. She leaned toward Tracy. “My sister Geena sent me the most beautiful Pashmina shawl….”
ABOUT AN HOUR NORTH of Seattle, Nick exited the highway and headed west toward Hainesville. The area looked a lot more inviting than the soggy gray landscape he’d seen during his visit last January. Now, in mid-August, the sky was a deep dreamy blue, and thistledown floated on a sultry breeze. He wound down the window and put his face into the wind, breathing deeply of the warm, humid air and the earthy scents of summer.
To his left was a small dairy farm with a barn and a silo and creamy Jersey cows dotting the green fields. To his right, thick stands of alder and birch hid the river from view. Closer to town, where the river broadened on its way to meet the ocean, assorted light marine industry lined the banks and fishing boats mingled with houseboats. One of those houseboats would be their home, and he was as excited as a kid at the prospect of living on the water.
Pretty soon the town itself came into view.
“Look, Miranda,” he said. “We’re here.”
She sat up and gazed out the window. “What a dump.”
Nick couldn’t have disagreed more. The streets were wide and lined with shade trees. The houses they’d passed were neat and well-cared-for, their lawns trimmed and the gardens bursting with color. Farming and fishing had clearly made for stable growth since the town’s inception a hundred years earlier. Nick felt as though his cares were dropping away as he cruised down Main Street, with its central grassy boulevard and diagonal parking on both sides. He admired the old stone buildings and turn-of-the-century wooden structures identifiable as the courthouse, library and museum. Benches set into the broad sidewalk every twenty paces or so seemed a deliberate invitation for citizens to slow down.
“They built to last in the old days, didn’t they?” Nick commented, stopping at a set of traffic lights. The only set of traffic lights, he realized, glancing ahead down the street.
Miranda glanced around. “I see a video store, but where’s the McDonald’s? Is this place for real?”
“Forget chain restaurants. I’ll bet there’s a coffee shop or a drive-in somewhere in town that serves the best burgers you’ve ever tasted.” The light changed and Nick continued slowly, watching for the realty office.
A woman coming out of the bank caught his eye. Elegantly slender, with shiny blond hair and a stylish suit, she walked with a grace that made her stand out among the moms in tracksuits, teenagers on skateboards and elderly men leaning on canes. Nick couldn’t help but turn his head as he passed, his elbow resting on the open window as though he were a teenager out cruising on a Saturday night. The woman must have felt his stare, for she slanted him a look. He smiled at her. Coolly, she nodded back. Once past, he checked her out in the rearview mirror. She was noticing his California plates.
“Da-a-ad. Hello. Isn’t that the realty office?”
“Huh? Oh, right.” Nick pulled into the curb and parked opposite the town clock in the middle of the boulevard. “Wait here,” he said to Miranda. “I should only be a minute.”
When he got out of the car, the blond woman paused to peer into a store window, her black briefcase held in both hands behind her back. Her gaze slid in his direction, but she saw him watching and focused on the window again.
The bell over the door of the realty office tinkled as he entered. A young woman with dark brown hair was standing behind a desk, talking on the phone. She saw him and held up a finger to indicate she’d only be a minute. “Yep. You got it, Mrs. Fontana. I’ll be out tomorrow with the contract. Thank you very much.”
She set down the phone and came out from behind her desk. “Hi, I’m Kelly Walker. You must be—”
“Nick Dalton. Nice to meet you.” He shook her hand. “Nice town you’ve got here.”
Her wide smile expressed delight. “Population 3,376—give or take a few—and I’m sure every one of us is looking forward to meeting you and your daughter. I know we’re grateful to have someone of your experience as our new fire chief. Can I offer you a cup of coffee?”
“Thanks, but I’ll have to take a rain check. My daughter’s waiting in the car,” he explained. In spite of what he’d told Miranda, he was surprised to encounter such immediate friendliness and warmth. But he liked it very much. “We’ve had a long drive and the moving van’s not far behind,” he went on.
“Of course.” Kelly plucked a set of keys from a pegboard on the wall behind her desk and handed them over, along with a sheet of paper. “Your keys and a map of Hainesville. Hard to get lost around here, mind you. I’ve marked your houseboat,” she said, pointing to a spot on the map. “You’re going to love living on the river. It’s a really nice little community and there’s a launching place for your boat. Didn’t you say you had a boat?”
“Just a small runabout. I like to fish.”
“Well, you’ve come to the right place. If there’s anything more I can do, just holler.” She walked him to the door and right out onto the sidewalk. “Oh, there’s my sister.”
Kelly waved to the elegant blonde who’d caught his eye. The woman hesitated before slowly proceeding toward